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Phantasmagoric Synesthesia

I listened to the acidic noises dancing around me like past humiliations mocking my failures. My sky blue eyes took in the deafening rainbow of colors surrounding my spinning, drugged mind. All I could feel was the sensation of my head rotating circles around the ache that was my head’s support, my neck. I wanted to drop to the ground with a heavy outburst of rage while ripping the failure-infested roots of my hair out of my scalp. The pieces of my world began to crumble into the darkness that now encompassed my entire being. My being had begun to fold itself into the deep wrinkles of my sunken eyes, engulfing itself into the loud, evident blankness of my insignificance to the surrounding world. The neighboring air particles seemed to give off a stench that circulated through all my senses, knocking the air out of my already crazed, empty lungs, propelling my mind into the vast space that was infinitely cramped with bareness. All was negative both visually and mentally. Visually, my walls contrasted their norm, as did the soothing feeling radiating from my carpet up through my toes. Mentally, my brain rejected the usually accepted and vice versa, finding strange comfort in the thought of the termination of my existence. The acid in my system matched the acidic noises dancing around me like past humiliations mocking my failures as I felt each bodily section formulate a string of smooth crashes to the floor.





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